


The Highland Prince

by McLavellan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bodyguard, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McLavellan/pseuds/McLavellan
Summary: Sebastian Vael is returning to his childhood home to take up the family business after the death of his brothers.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Sebastian Vael
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	The Highland Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cullenlovesmen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cullenlovesmen/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, T.  
> Sorry it's taken me so long.....
> 
> And this is the best I could write without your help...

* * *

* * *

**The Highland Prince Returns**

The Highlander Company has announced, three months after the tragic accident that took the lives of its hereditary CEOs, that their brother, the youngest and only living son of Hamish Vael, will be taking up leadership of his family's legacy. 

The Highlander Company, said to have been around to some extent or another for centuries, was the first mass producer of tartan in the UK. It now has hotels and resorts, often accompanied by some of the world's top rated golf courses, around the world, as well as manufacturing souvenirs and Scottish essentials. Due to this, the family has been dubbed Scottish Royalty for many decades.

The youngest son, Sebastian Vael, was an infamous subject of the tabloids in the late 90s. The exploits of the young heir gained notoriety to such an extent that it was rumoured his departure from the UK was ordered by his father. After a year of partying in LA, the young Highland Prince, as he was dubbed, fell silent. He was not seen again until the funeral of his brothers in October.

Both the business world and mainstream media eagerly await to see what has become of the man and how it will affect the company.

  
  


~*~

Airports at 2am are the tear in the veil. A world between worlds where time no longer exists in a way that matters. Outside of the Departures boards, anyway. 

I was stood in the small, sickly lit WH Smith's, judging the overpriced items like an old man and paying for it anyway like a younger one. I'd stopped when I saw my old nickname on a headline, my gut sinking with a strange "oh God, what now". In the heydays of my delinquency I took sinister delight in seeing just what shame I'd wrought upon my family. I'd even stubbornly laugh off the frightening times when I couldn't remember that night, that man or woman, that incredibly reckless stunt. 

Now, the name filled me with dread I wish I'd had the sense to feel back then.

When I heard a man say my actual name, it was in such a way that the dread didn't dissipate, but grew instead.

I turned.

Standing half a head taller than me was a grim faced blond man, his shoulders set wide, chest out, scowl intimidating.

"Let me guess…. You're my new bodyguard?" I sighed.

He nodded and took my suitcase, walking off while I scrambled to bag my shopping and follow.

"How did you know I'd be here? I put the jet up for sale and flew economy."

"Garrett Hawke," the man said, almost accusingly.

"That traitor."

The man stopped, about to speak, and shook his head walking on, giving the impression that talking wasn't one of his strengths. But then, my father never liked when the bodyguards were friendly with me, maybe he was controlling the company from beyond the grave. God rest his soul.

The crushing weight of money and being-known was starting to hit me. I wanted to go home, tell Aunt Elthina she was right, and live a quiet life serving God. 

I'd stopped in the middle of a large corridor.

The bodyguard looked back, confused, and waited. He didn't come to drag me away like a prison guard. Maybe he wasn't terrible.

"Do you have a name?" I asked, pathetically.

Maybe I pulled at his heartstrings, because he came back, slowly, and stood in front of me, holding out a hand.

"Cullen Rutherford."

I shook it, feeling a smile creep back. And a vague memory of the paperwork and emails I'd been sifting through since agreeing to return.

"Aren't you one of the top people at Herald inq?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with an almost bashful smile.

"Yes. But I'm on your personal security until…." 

He hesitated and looked back up the corridor. 

"You need to speak to somebody first. One of Hawke's associates," he told me, nodding me back in the direction we were going.

Aveline Vallen was waiting for me in a small private room with a battered IKEA table and plastic chairs. I sat when she bid and waited.

"You're under investigation for the deaths of your brothers. Just as a formality. Your co-"

I silenced her with a hand, struggling to find words. I wasn't scared. I wasn't sad. I was angry.

"I thought it had been ruled as an accident," I said, coldly. She deserved better, but so did I. "I was… scorned… for telling them to investigate further. I told them it was no accident." 

I was getting louder and angrier until I saw my Golem bodyguard shift and sit down.

"We know. But the police won't go further until you're cleared. You're the only person who truly stood to gain."

Aveline nodded, sitting back more relaxed.

"Garrett is still in the states, if he can gain access to any computers or phones or records there, I'll work with you from this side," she explained. "It shouldn't take long, if you're willing to give us complete access."

I nodded, "Of course. I have nothing to hide. And what about you?" I asked Rutherford, "Why did they send you?"

He and Aveline exchanged a look before he spoke up.

"Whoever did this is still out there. We can't guarantee they won't target you. And since we…. failed to protect your brothers, the company sent me personally."

There was clearly more to this, but they just told me that until I was officially cleared, they couldn't discuss the case with me.

The three of us exchanged contact details and plans, Garrett would be given access to everything I left in the US and Aveline, alongside Herald Inc, would access my laptop back home.

Then I was free, with the promise not to leave the country and so on.

Rutherford finally took me to the lavish car waiting for me, another ghost from the past, and held the door open.

"Hotel or home?" he asked, as I climbed in.

Home…. I wasn't sure where that was now, but I shrugged and said it would do nicely.

I bloody hoped I was right about that. My welcoming party had consisted of strangers announcing my fears we're right, my family had been murdered. I was on my way back to the prison walls of my childhood home where everything solid would be familiar, but no living thing would be.

In the back of the car, all alone, I opened the plastic shopping bag (which had cost me 10 bloody P) and ate my crisps. Even they seemed different.


End file.
